


Ask Nicely

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Choking, Exhibitionism, F/M, First Time, Friends/Enemies, Restraint, Rough Sex, Teasing, Voyeurism, breath play, mental bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 15:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: The Doctor's gaze has been lingering and Missy calls him on it.This is PWP Vault sex.  Please look at the tags for information about content and potential triggers.





	Ask Nicely

This new form bothered him. The Doctor didn’t like that his eye was drawn to the figure she cut in her suit or the way her hair smelled just a bit of a flower from their childhood, no doubt long since extinct. But that was her, an enigma. _His_ enigma. Like right now, she was standing at the window of the vault, well the false window anyway, and the light was coming through around her curves. She had _curves_! The Doctor wasn’t often a man who had physical desires. Sure, some regenerations were more touchy-feely than others, but not this one. This one had always shied from touch. Not with her though. In fact, he found himself struggling _not_ to touch her. 

“… but all you do is reverse the polarity and…. Doctor,” Missy snapped her fingers. “Doctor. Are you having a stroke? Oh wouldn’t that be fun to watch. Tell me before you can’t speak anymore,” she said as she got very close and spoke quite slow and loud, “should I kill you so you can regenerate or would you like to experience life as a vegetable?” She propped her chin on her hands and batted her lashes. 

“I’m not having a stroke,” he chided. “I was thinking.”

“About what?” She stood, her skirt swinging at her ankles. “Because from the look on your face it wasn’t about polarity in antigravity engines. You licked your lips.” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly but her eyes said mischief. That didn’t help. 

“Thinking about ice cream.” 

“Funny… that’s not what your brain broadcast.” Missy chimed out, stepping closer. He didn’t like it when she did that, got close fast and put him on his back foot. 

“I didn’t broadcast anything,” he protested.

“You don’t have to,” she told him as she reached out to run her knuckles down his cheek. “I know every crevice of that beautiful brain. It’s quite clear what you were thinking about.” Missy caught his hand and brought it to her waist, moving it slowly up to her breast before he jumped back sputtering and shaking his hand like it was on fire. “It’s ok… I mean not for most Time Lords. Rutting like animals,” she said with a smirk. “Just so you know,” she said as she leaned in close, “I’d probably let you if you asked nicely.” 

“L… let me, I asked no such thing.”  
She flicked him in the middle of the forehead and wandered to her piano, “maybe you have had a stroke.” Missy’s fingers landed on the buttons of her jacket, flicking them open so she could peel it off and lay it over the back of a chair. She wandered around the piano toward her bench, skirt swinging out her hand there, the movement catching his eye. “You stare quite often,” she told him plainly. “If you don’t want a lady to get ideas you must learn to control your gaze, my dear Doctor.” She adjusted her skirt then sat, fingers poised over the keys. She thought for a moment before playing a piece intended for four hands and making it through pretty decently for a two handed person. The Doctor had to admit, she was right. He _was_ staring and he _did_ need to control his gaze. He walked toward the door then she began to play an old Gallifreyan song, something from their childhood and he turned to watch again, utterly entranced by the way her fingers moved. He couldn’t take his eyes from the delicate bones of her wrist as they shifted across the keys or the strong column of her pale throat as she shifted her head with the music. 

Between that song and the next, Missy’s fingers slid up that long pale throat, undoing her broach. He recognized it the first time he’d seen her with it, but now, looking at it as she sat it on the piano, reminded him of a time in her sitting room millennia ago, handing her that very broach when her daughter was born. They’d held hands that day and she’d told him all about being a new mother. Her cufflinks came next, one then the other. Also gifts from him. Those were for her first successful TARDIS flight. He knew what she was doing, but couldn’t look away. He thought to times she’d hypnotized people but put it out of his mind because he knew damn well that wasn’t the case. Another song came, something melancholy and roaming. After that song, Missy unbuttoned her blouse a few. His pulses were pounding by the time her fingers went back to the keys for another haunting peice. 

The Doctor circled to her left, getting a better view. If he was going to be accused of staring, he would allow himself to actually indulge. For a moment. He could let himself watch for just a moment. “Oh ho, Doctor,” Missy chastised as she caught his gaze. “Such thoughts. Makes a girl hot under the collar.” Missy undid her buttons to halfway down, showing him a generous expanse of bare skin across her collar bones and down to the top of her corset. He glanced away at that, something so personal, but she started to play Great Balls of Fire and he looked back to get a wink from her. “If you came over and helped, I wouldn’t have to stop playing.” He gave himself away with a shift of his body weight and she spent the next five minutes teasing him by slowly dipping her shoulder so he could see more skin as she teased him with glimpses. 

“On the piano, really Doctor,” she tutted as Missy stood and slowly pulled her blouse from her skirt, her back to him. “First, the tuning on an instrument like this is quite delicate and all manner of thrusting and grinding might muck it up.” She let one shoulder of her blouse drop, sliding off her long arm before it was followed by the other. “Second, it would be quite uncomfortable. For me most likely… keys all digging in my bum,” she smirked, turning slowly presumably so he could take a good, long look. “And third, I’d much prefer that couch or even the floor in front of the window if you’d like to know. The fake sun feels delicious on bare skin.” 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of all that pale skin on display for him. Because that was what this was. She was posing for him, showing him so much he was on mental overload. He didn’t know if she was trying to incite lust or drive him mad. Either way it was working. “Or did you just want to watch?” Missy’s brow rose as his mind groaned loud enough for everyone on the bloody planet to hear. “Oh Doctor… so dirty,” she chided with a flair of her eyes and a flutter of her lashes. “You can come closer, get a good show.” Her hands ran down the front of her skirt, pulling it slowly higher before settling back on the bench. She closed the lid on the keys, leaning back with her skirt rucked up around her knees. “Have you got a piano fantasy I can help fulfill?” Missy’s hand ran along her upper inner thigh, licking her lips as he made eye contact. 

“Missy.” He’d meant to be firm but his tone was anything but. The Doctor knew he needed to tell her no, but he sounded like a man who wanted to be put at heel, to lick every inch of the boots she was showing him. 

“I want you to sit down,” she told him clearly with a nod toward a chair directly in front of her. Her fingers continued to tease her inner thigh, pushing her skirts higher. He could see the tops of her stockings now, and the garters holding them up. They were nothing lacy or fancy, just good, strong garters and thick stockings. He adored the simplicity and the intense arousal that came from knowing that she’d wear those again and he’d be able to picture them as they spoke, as she worked with him. Her hand moved between her legs and he shifted anxiously into the chair she wanted him to sit in. “Sit back, Doctor.” Missy’s tone dripped victory as she moved her hands back into sight, teasing the inside of her knees. 

The Doctor’s thoughts returned to her hypnotizing him but just but he knew that wasn’t the truth. It wasn’t her mind or eyes hypnotizing him this time, it was her skin, every inch of it exposed over her corset and along her thighs called to him. Missy shifted her legs open a bit wider and he felt a definite stir. “Oh look, the little Doctor’s coming out to play too.” She giggled a little and brought her hands over the bottom of her corset then back to her thighs. 

He flushed and shifted in his seat, hoping to make it less noticeable. “This is madness,” The Doctor grumbled. Yet he couldn’t stop looking. He had lost all track of time at this point because it felt like she was actually controlling it, slowing it down to a crawl as her fingers spread over luscious bare skin. 

“Agreed,” Missy told him as her fingers traced the line of her corset. “But that is us from the beginning, isn’t it?” She sat up, thighs wide open with her skirt rucked up and draped so he saw the entirety of her creamy, strong thighs but she hid the rest from his gaze. Her hands reached behind, and while he knew she was undoing the laces of her corset, it was surprising when she opened it a few fastenings and he could see even more skin. “What was that you wanted to do with my thighs,” she teased as her hands moved back to them, fingers clearly on a mission. 

“You shouldn’t….”

“There are many things I shouldn’t do. If you’re uncomfortable,” she told him, “feel free to leave.” She went back, her hands moving with purpose as Missy’s breathing sped. He was surprised how often his eyes flitted to her breasts, the top of the corset letting him see far more but not everything. Every moment she looked a little more debauched and every moment the Doctor had a harder and harder time keeping his hands still on the arms of the chair. His nails were digging in, thumbs nearly putting holes in the upholstery when she let out an honest to goodness moan. Her hand was shifting faster, the fabric of her skirts rustling, rucked up mostly around her waist but the way Missy’s hand is positioned, the way the fabric draped, he couldn’t actually see the point of contact and that was even more entrancing. 

“Doctor.” She said it softly, piercing blue eyes meeting his own as Missy opened her mind to him. “Oh…” She let out a soft sound, but it was the trill of pleasure from her mind that had him fighting not to get to his feet. One of her hands slipped into her corset, clearly squeezing her breast as her hips rocked. Missy’s head tipped back and he was treated to the other side of her orgasm, a peek inside what she was feeling that was so intense his prick went from almost hard to painful in moments. She didn’t stop at one, no Missy pushed through two more and the Doctor’s name was on her lips every time.  
He was panting, his whole body aching because every single muscle in his body was tense to the point of pain. “Orgasms are so much better as a woman, they last longer,” she told him with a satisfied sigh. “And multiples…” She made a delighted noise and shifted her thighs closed much to his chagrin. Missy got to her feet, not bothering to clean up at all. The only reason her skirt went down was because she stood. He found her utter lack of care on that matter went straight to his already hard prick. “When I first regenerated I wanted to see what it felt like.” Missy walked toward him, ambling a little on the stairs. “It had been so long since I was a woman. I didn’t come out of my room for a week,” she confessed with a laugh. “This wrist still clicks.” She moved the wrist in question next to his ear, knowing the scent of her body on those slender fingers would be strong so close to his nose. “Listen.” She moved it, smearing her fingers across his lips and down his jaw as she turned her wrist. His fingers punctured the arm of the chair at that point and while she pretended not to notice… she noticed. 

“Every man I slept with was a disappointment,” she circled behind him. “I was with an Andilussion woman for awhile… fifteen inch tongue.” She shivered, pressing her breasts to his shoulder. “That was worth five years or so.” Her hands traveled down his chest, sliding under his jacket. “We used to lay in bed for hours just to see how far she could push her tongue…” He couldn’t take any more and grabbed her wrists, pulling Missy’s hands out from under his jacket. “Jealous?” 

Her tone, the teasing in her voice, cut through him. “No,” he nearly shouted. 

“Oh… oh,” Missy put her hands up, dancing a little bit in delight as she realized that was exactly the emotion he was feeling. “You wanted to be the first,” she teased as her hands came to her corset, pulling it close for a moment and making him hold his breath as he thought she was going to shuck the entire thing off. When she refastened it and reached behind, he knew he was being dismissed. “My dear, _dear_ Doctor,” she told him as she tightened her own laces, “green really is your color.” She turned slowly, shaking her head in amusement. “I won’t even tell you about the bloke with ten fingers on one hand. That was a long weekend, now at least he…” She let out a strangled sound and he realized all at once that was because he had come up behind her and grabbed her wrists hard, pushing her into the side of the piano with a rough shove. He hadn’t even registered that he was moving let alone manhandling her. “Why Doctor,” she teased as she ground her bottom into him, “I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

She bent all the way down with no help from him, pressing her cheek to the top of the piano as her hips moved back into him. She wasn’t just rubbing against him now, Missy was in his head, taunting him rudely as he squeezed her wrists harder. She moaned at the roughness and that was when the Doctor knew he was in real trouble. He clearly heard her say: _Now that you’ve caught me, what are you going to do with me?_ It only took him moments to show her exactly what he was going to do, pulling her skirts up over her bottom, gasping when he saw bare skin there. “Pants are restricting,” she told him with a look over her shoulder. It was only a moment after he’d freed himself that he pushed into her roughly, getting a howl that was some mix of need, pain, melancholy, and lust. “See… couldn’t have done that with them in the w… way.” 

He felt bad for a moment for not preparing her, but Missy evened out quickly and was soon moaning for him, her skirts rustling with every thrust, adding to the overall noise. He was still restraining her wrists at the small of her back, but he shifted, his fingers plucking at her laces. He couldn’t decide which was more arousing, her in the corset or her out. Half in, half out had been incredible. Instead of deciding, he just laced his fingers in the ties and pulled the fabric a little closer together. “Oh yes _please_ ,” Missy groaned and then his decision was made. She had a kink years ago, centuries or more, and he decided to see if it remained. His hand moved low on her throat and Missy tightened around him hard enough to bring him up short in his thrust. Her hands went to his, pushing it up. “Yes,” she agreed with an emphatic nod. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had his fingers wrapped around her throat. Well, not hers. This throat was far more delicate. He could wrap one hand almost all the way around it. She shivered against him, moaning his name through strangled vocal cords. His hips continued to move, the fabric of his trousers dampening the slap of their skin but he could imagine it. He thought about a next time and she looked back at him, clearly hearing his thought. The look on her face alone should have made him run screaming from the room. Instead it made him thrust harder so she wouldn’t open those red lips and say something poisonous. She grabbed his hips, urging him to keep going, as she pushed her throat against his hand. It would be easy to snap her neck right now and he felt her hear that thought before she moaned and clamped down around him. “Missy,” he hissed into her shoulder as he pulled her back to him, loosing his grip a little. He didn’t know if it was a change of position or letting her breathe a little that set her off, but Missy came on him hard enough to cross the Doctor’s eyes. And he would remember the way she said his name, not Doctor… his very first name, her new lips rolling around a familiar word that meant him. He finished moments later, letting go of her throat and barely stopping himself from collapsing on top of her. He found his lips running over her bare shoulder again and again, her given name on his lips. 

Missy pulled another orgasm from herself with skilled fingers as he softened inside her. He held him to her with her other hand, slipping it into the waist of his trousers to squeeze his left cheek. “… Missy I…”

“Shut up.” She patted him to show she wasn’t actually cross, clearly meaning she just wanted quiet. He wasn’t good at that, though. It lasted only a minute more before she sighed. “Go ahead. I can hear you waiting to speak.” She shifted, pulling off of him and letting her skirts drop. She pushed him back and turned to face him, brow raised. “Well?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” 

“… and?” Missy’s hands went to her hips, shifting her breasts under the top of her corset. “You’re hanging out there, mate.” She nodded to his lap and the Doctor jumped, tucking himself back up and zipping. He hadn’t even thought about it. “Ok, so you interrupted my afterglow to say we shouldn’t have done that? Fantastic timing.” She slipped around the back of the piano toward the window with the most fake sun coming in. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment of quiet so I can focus on what you left inside running down my thigh.” She turned her face up into the sun, eyes closed as she continued to tease him in song until he actually did flee her vault, the sound of Missy’s laugh in his ears and the smell of her all over him.


End file.
